


Together in Sweater Town

by Tat_Tat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat_Tat/pseuds/Tat_Tat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They do it in a sweater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together in Sweater Town

Mabel’s date ideas were oftentimes unorthodox and tiring. Pacifica loved and hated her ideas for exactly that reason, so while going outdoors to watch a movie at a “Drive-in Theater” befuddled Pacifica (because why watch a movie outside?) she did like that it didn’t involve bedazzling cats for the cat show or running away from gnomes (what was supposed to be a picnic turned into crashing her girlfriend’s wedding/kidnapping). Parents and movies told her that dates involved fine wine and menus that didn’t list the prices. Or sharing a glass of wine on the yacht. Or going on a wine tour. Never forget the alcohol.

It was cool for a summer night, reminding Pacifica that Mabel would have to leave in two weeks. They had Christmas and Spring break to look forward to after that but the wait was always long. She shivered, and not only from the cold. Without thinking she leaned into Mabel, and she lost herself in the other girl’s scent, closing her eyes, forgetting the movie.

“Cold?” 

“A little.”

Mabel lifted her sweater up slightly, as if it were a blanket. Pacifica had noticed that this sweater was looser than Mabel’s others and decorated with glow in the dark stars. She raised a brow at Mabel’s expectant smile. Sometimes the girl reminded her of a pomeranian puppy: always bouncy, eager, and fluffy. If she had a tail it would be going one hundred miles an hour eagerly waiting for Pacifica to do. . . whatever it was she was expecting her to do.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“Letting you in. Get in here, girl!” When Pacifica didn’t move and continued to stare, Mabel explained, “it’s a Sweater for Two (patent pending), for super close goop cuddles.”

That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Pacifica wanted to say. What she actually said was, “. . .Okaaaay?”

“Just try it.” Mabel said, swooping her into the sweater headfirst.

“You’re just lucky I was cold,” Pacifica grumbled, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. Static crackled as she wiggled around to get comfortable and poke her head out of the collar.

“Hi there.” 

“Hi.” 

“Come here often?” Mabel waggled her eyebrows.

“Are we watching the movie or not?” As much as she adored Mabel’s silly charm, she still had trouble working with it. She was jealous of Dipper sometimes, how he effortlessly made jokes with Mabel. Pacifica wasn’t sure how to make jokes without hurting someone’s feelings so often when Mabel started she laughed and accepted that she couldn’t play the same tune or, like now, quickly changed the subject. She had meant to watch the movie but she only went back to brooding: on her lack of humor, and the end of summer. 

The wind blew again, this time rustling the trees and lifting up the corners of the blanket they were sitting on. She leaned closer to Mabel, secretly grateful for the Two Person Sweater, and pretending to watch the movie. Also pretending that Mabel wasn’t wearing a bra. Also not doing too well at that. 

She glanced at Mabel whose gaze was fixated on the large projector screen, shoveling popcorn in her mouth with one hand, and with the other. . . 

Maybe she wasn’t the only one pretending to still watch the movie.

Mabel’s hand pulled aside her underwear and Pacifica spread her legs, suddenly aching to be touched. She gave furtive glances to the other couples in the lot of the Drive in Theater, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious, because if she and Mabel could pretend to be watching the movie, the crowd could too. However, the sweater went past their waists and with her knees bunched up under it, it would be difficult to figure out what was happening.

“M-Mabe-” 

She just had to stay quiet.

Mabel giggled. She could feel her breath warming her shoulder, long eyelashes brushing her blushing cheeks. 

Pacifica closed her eyes, biting her lip. Her trembling hand found Mabel’s thigh, gripping her like her life depended on it. Her finely manicured nails were sharp, digging into Mabel’s tan legs. She heard Mabel hiss under her breath, her lips dotting the edges of her ear with teasing kisses.

“Maybe we should ditch this movie,” she suggested, her voice oddly low and husky while still containing that intoxicating saccharine sweetness Pacifica loved. 

Reluctantly they pulled away from each other, but stayed within the warmth of the shared sweater. Pacifica pulled out her cell phone and within minutes her limo driver arrived to pick them up. They left the blanket (but Mabel insisted to bring the popcorn with them) and stumbled into the limo. The driver’s eyes were raised towards Pacifica through the rearview mirror, confused by her state of dress, but not by the other woman beside her.

“Just drive until I tell you to stop,” she ordered, then pressed the button to raise the tinted glass between them and the driver.

Pacifica turned to Mabel, smirking. The limo was warmer than it was outside, but she remained in the sweater with Mabel, slipping out of her shirt and rolling her skirt over her waist. “You may continue.” She pushed Mabel into the backseat and spread her knees over her lap. 

“Oh gee. Shouldn’t we wear seatbelts?” Mabel said coquettishly, earning a pouty glare from the blonde. “Kidding, kidding.” She wrapped an arm around her girlfriend’s waist. “See, I told you the sweater was a good idea.”

“Hmm. . . I’m still skeptical.” There was an inviting lilt to her voice. “I think you need to convince me more.”

“Can do!” Mabel said and Pacifica wondered briefly how someone could sound so goofy, upbeat, and sexy all at once. Wrapped up in the sweater, their bodies close, Mabel ran her fingertips over Pacifica’s breasts. The touch was light, teasing. Pacifica wanted her hands back there, taking the other girl’s wrist and leading her back, kissing her fiercely, traces of buttered popcorn and milk duds on her tongue. There was an aftertaste of cherry lipgloss when she broke away, panting and demanding more.

Mabel ducked her head down, gently sucking and licking her nipples. Her hand traversed down her abdomen, leaving behind a glitter trail. Her fingers stopped between Pacifica’s legs and gently tapped the hard nub of her swollen clit.

“Don’t you dare tease me, Pines.” 

“Tease? Me?” Mabel batted her lashes. Her fingers slipped inside effortlessly, silencing the retort on Pacifica’s lips, inciting a gasp. She wrapped her arms tighter around Mabel, demanding, never asking. Demanding more. More more more.

It was sweltering and humid inside the sweater. Pacifica could smell the salt rise between them. She could taste it in the air, that intoxicating musk that was Mabel's and her own desires.

“Keep going,” she gasped, moving against Mabel’s fingers, rocking into the palm of her hand. She felt lost and found all at once. Under her hooded gaze she glimpsed Mabel touching herself and that’s when she lost control. She was struck like a bolt of lightning, convulsing in Mabel’s lap, the only thing holding them together the warm pink wool sweater. 

Long after the waves of pleasure trickled off, Pacifica lingered in Mabel’s lap. The sweater was as hot and suffocating as ever but she didn’t want this, or the summer, to end.


End file.
